


Happy New Year

by ChocoNut



Series: Modern JB love [5]
Category: A Song of Ice and Fire & Related Fandoms, A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, F/M, Fluff, New Year's Eve, Pining
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-15
Updated: 2019-12-15
Packaged: 2021-02-24 15:55:39
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,783
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21800539
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ChocoNut/pseuds/ChocoNut
Summary: It's New Year's Eve, and with all the other couples partying, Brienne, single and lonely, chooses to bring in 2020 by herself. But fate has different plans for her.
Relationships: Jaime Lannister/Brienne of Tarth
Series: Modern JB love [5]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1557871
Comments: 18
Kudos: 190
Collections: JB Online 2019 Advent Calendar Collection





	Happy New Year

**Author's Note:**

> My contribution for JBO Advent 2019. Thank you for reading and hope you enjoy this little piece of fluff!

Every New Year's Eve for the past five or so years had adhered to a typical pattern, and this one was no different, nothing special. 

Brienne glanced at the clock on her bedside table. The time was 11:30 p.m, still a while to go before the final few minutes of 2019 could roll away. As always, she was by herself this time too. The birth of the next year was going to be as lonely and painful as the last and so many others that had preceded it. But it was okay. She was going to be okay. The emptiness would pass once the holidays came to an end. Work and routine would keep her busy enough to stay away from such thoughts.

The rest of the gang was out for the night, dancing and partying away, eager to bring in this milestone with their respective significant others. Sansa and Tyrion, Jon and Ygritte, Arya and Gendry and-- she couldn’t help a heavy sigh-- Jaime and Cersei, all of them, long-steady couples, had been enthusiastically planning the evening for weeks. They needed no other because they had one another, each happy in their partner’s arms. She had been asked to join them, of course, but in their company, she felt like an outsider, an intruder who had no right to spy on their privacy. Staying home was better. Parties and pubs were for people who wanted to have a good time, those satisfied with the way life was treating them.

Everyone she knew was contented and happy and eager to celebrate. Everyone but her.

After Renly, she hadn’t pursued a relationship, steering clear of men for a while for fear of another heartbreak. Determined not to get too close, she kept away from getting too attached to anyone who tried to be even a tiny bit nice to her. 

She had been taking every effort to avoid feelings like plague.

But her restraint and resolve remained with her not for long, only until she had met Jaime Lannister. 

And then, she’d caught feelings. 

She had caught them hard… so hard that they refused to go away. He was committed, she’d known that from day one, a one-woman man who would look at no one but Cersei, deeply and blissfully in love with her. She knew she could never take Cersei’s place, yet, she couldn’t help how she felt about him, couldn’t smother the cries of her heart.

 _It’ll pass,_ she comforted herself, taking another sip of beer, staring blankly at the show she was supposed to be watching. _Just get back to bed after a while and try to go to sleep._ Not that she hadn’t explored that option. So hard, she’d tried to put herself to bed, that she’d ended up tossing and turning and frustrating herself to the extent of turning on Netflix and absentmindedly pulling up the first thing that popped up on the menu.

Her phone beeped again, for what was probably the millionth time in the last half an hour or so, another useless whats-app message, most likely. Making a face, she ignored it. Not that it was too much of a distraction, but it was still… annoying. It had to be her friends, no doubt, particularly Sansa who had this annoying habit of spamming their group with selfies and loads of other pics.

Another beep.

 _Not interested,_ she decided, focusing on the TV.

Another followed shortly after, which again, she chose not to read.

And then there came another, bringing with it, an end to her patience, her tolerance for this nuisance breaching its threshold. 

Curiosity mingled with irritation overpowered her indifference, and at last, she picked up the phone to give it a glance. Some, as she’d correctly surmised, were Sansa’s call for attention, but the remaining were from-- 

Holding her breath, she opened each one in the chronological order of receipt.

At 9:00 p.m, it had been a casual, **“Why didn’t you join us, wench? I assumed you’d come.”**

There was another after an hour. **“Are you coming in late?”** , followed by a more recent, **“I’m still waiting. Where the hell are you?”**

Brienne paused reading. Waiting for her? Why? She’d never let slip any indication that she was going to join them. The next one read, **“Are you okay, Brienne?”**

At about 11:00 p.m, he’d written, **“Sansa just informed me you’ve dropped out. Is something wrong? Why aren’t you replying to my messages? Why have you been avoiding me all these days?”** The desperation in this one left butterflies in her stomach. It was almost as if he-- _No, it can’t be,_ she brushed away the possibility, extinguishing the tiny glimmer of positivity his words had momentarily sparked in her. 

She gulped in panic when she opened the latest which had a timestamp of 11:15 p.m, just about twenty minutes back. **“I’m coming to your place. Need to talk.”**

She looked up from the phone. No he couldn’t. This wasn’t the time. She couldn’t entertain him here or engage in a conversation. She wasn’t in the right frame of mind to receive him.

Closing her eyes for a moment, she thought through what she wanted to say, then with a deep breath, she began composing a reply. Her fingers shaking uncontrollably, it took her awhile to finish the damn thing, to iron out the typos, to re-read, correct and reword whatever was required. Fed up with the repeated writing and editing, she decided to stick to a simple, **“Not now. I’m tired. Need to sleep. Will talk to you later.”**

Thirty seconds later, her phone pinged with his response. **“Too late, wench. I’m just outside, at the lift.”**

 **“What, you can’t--”** she began to write, when the doorbell rang.

She gave herself a few seconds, her head buzzing with too many questions. _How do I put him off? What excuses do I make for my absence? How do I hide my feelings for him? How do I stop myself from turning into an emotional mess in front of him?_

_Why the hell has he come searching for me when he should’ve been celebrating with his girlfriend?_

The bell screamed again, and unable to put it off anymore, she let him in.

Barging in, he shut the door, then turned to her. “Are you okay?” he asked, green eyes full of concern as he placed a palm on her forehead to check for a fever.

Determined to keep her composure, she said, “I’m fine.” Inside, she was burning, his touch breaking all hell loose within her. She was worried she might melt into a desperate smitten pool.

His gaze turned intense and demanding. “Why didn’t you come then? I kept waiting, texting you--” With an angry sigh, he drew closer. “Why didn’t you bother to reply, wench?”

“I just saw your messages,” she tried to explain, honestly this time. “I--”

A couple of more steps brought him into her personal circle. “Have you been avoiding me?”

“Of course not,” she lied, turning away, unable to withstand the heat of his gaze, “I just--”

He tilted her face to look her in the eye. “You’re lying, and you’re upset with me,” he said, seeing through her bluff immediately. “So out with it. What the hell did I do to offend you?” 

She said nothing, just shook her head, unwilling to confess, incapable of speaking another lie.

He moved closer, his finger lingering on her chin. “Tell me, Brienne.”

“There are people out there waiting for you. Why have you come here?” she questioned him instead. “It’s the 31st of December. You’re supposed to be celebrating with the one you love, kissing her when the new year arrives--”

Jaime smiled, leaving her weak-kneed as usual. “That is exactly what I’m planning to do.”

“Carry on then,” she cried, her chest burning with jealousy and indignation. “Why the hell are you wasting your precious time here with me when you ought to be elsewhere with her, kissing her when the clock strikes twelve like you do every year, spending the night in her arms--”

“ _Her?_ ” he cut her, his forehead creasing in a confused frown.

“Cersei,” she almost shouted, the name a knife to her belly, a poison to her ears. “Who else can it be? Who else have you ever been interested in?” she continued, fuming in rage and frustration. “Now if you could just do me a favour and stop pretending there’s nothing between you two--”

“There is _nothing_ between Cersei and me,” he answered her, firmly and clearly. “Not anymore, at least. It’s been days since we’ve broken up. I thought you knew all about it.” Lowering his voice, he went on, his frown-lines deepening. “But you’ve barely bothered to keep up, have you? You know nothing. How would you? We’ve not spoken for weeks, you’ve kept away, carefully avoiding me, spewing out excuses and dodging people and team outings.”

“Why are you here?” she asked again, thirsting for answers which seemed to take ages to come. “Why--”

Before she could finish, his lips met hers. A tender touch, it was, a feathery brush, so tentative, the sensation, light, and yet... so damn intoxicating. Before she knew what she was doing, before she could contain herself and hold back her caged desires, she leaned into him, kissing him back. 

He drew in a breath and pulled back, only a little, his lips still touching hers, his emerald eyes latched onto hers. Heat burned through her cheeks, and her heart began pounding like crazy. She waited for him to kiss her again, to say something, because if he didn’t, she’d combust, explode, shattering into a thousand pieces to be scattered into nothingness--

“Jaime--”

And again, he didn’t let her speak. Cupping the back of her neck, he gathered her in his arms and claimed her lips with such fierceness that the room around her began to spin. Closing her eyes, she sank into him. She felt dizzy, she couldn’t stand upright, she couldn’t think straight, she just couldn’t--

The clock began to chime, marking the birth of a new beginning. A new future, she hoped for it to bring her, if whatever was happening wasn’t just a sweet dream.

When the moment had passed, he let go of her. “Happy New Year, Brienne,” he whispered, pressing his forehead to hers. “I came here because--”

It was her turn to silence him this time, sealing his lips shut with hers. “I know,” she said softly, wrapping her arms around him. “Happy New Year to you too, Jaime.” 

2020 was going to be the most wonderful year of her life.

  
  
  



End file.
